


Beautiful Mind

by Salty_Boi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Mentions of the Foster Care System, Mentions of very OOC Lance, Very Vague hints at Abuse, mentions of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:52:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Boi/pseuds/Salty_Boi
Summary: There was no comfort in blank masks and cold neon purple lights- Only in that Lance was still in his right mind.Even that didn’t last long, though.





	Beautiful Mind

Lance’s POV

   The majority of the time, _he_ was under wraps. Kept on a short chain made up of tests and pills, years worth of coping, and a therapist. Lance hadn’t accounted for a spontaneous trip to space. It hadn’t been included in the plan he’d stitched together- he didn’t think to carry the prescription bottle around, no matter how much he wished he did now. He’d never needed to, Thought that the tranquilizer Hunk and the Garrison officers carried would be enough in case _he_ got out of control.

 

    _He_ being Theo. Lance didn’t actually know that much about Theo. He couldn’t talk to him- Couldn’t communicate with the separate entity living in his own brain, no matter how frustrating it was- and it was Maddening, having to put everything on hold whenever his hands began to shake and his vision began to blur, every time his thoughts become fuzzy with foreign ideas and thought processes he couldn't control.

 

   All he knew was what his family and what the Therapist told him; Theo wasn't somebody he’d want to know. That he was apathetic but the perfect actor, mistrusting, manipulative as they came, and incredibly prone to fits of inexplicably volatile violence if provoked at all. Lance still had a hard time believing it, despite reading the reports and meeting the social worker assigned to him, even watching a video of what Theo had done while wearing Lance’s skin.

 

   The therapist said it was because of some sort of severe trauma at a young age, combined with the numerous homes he was put in before he landed with the Mcclain family. Lance didn’t want to believe that either, despite missing memories of almost 13 years of his life. He didn’t want to know, however, based off the distorted, lonely year he did remember right before being placed with the Mcclains. 

 

   But Lance had Theo under control before going to the Garrison. He had been with the Mcclains for three years before going to the Garrison, and even though Iverson seemed to have a vendetta against him, and some days he could barely convince himself to keep in control -years worth of practice and watching the consequences be damned- Lance loved it. He Loved flying, loved meeting so many different people, the feeling of accomplishment when he got good grades and managed to pass the simulators. He loved calling home every few nights to talk to his family, and how his mamá would always look so _proud of him_.

 

   Lance hadn’t planned for an impromptu trip to space _or_ getting caught up in an intergalactic war to save the entirety of the universe, though- nobody had. And without the meds, therapist visits, or near constant check-ins with his family to keep him in check, he knew full well he was going to snap soon. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Theo took over- especially not when his hands hadn’t stopped shaking for days, and his thoughts were muddled beyond comprehension most of the time,  ~~where did his thoughts end and Theo’s begin again?~~  And certainly not when he hadn’t slept since the first night for fear that when he awoke, it would be to weapons pointed at him because Theo had attacked someone ~~again~~.

 

   Of course, getting carted off to the Galran headquarters while he was in a coma didn’t do much for his state of mind. There was no comfort cold purple metal walls, blank masks, and cold neon purple lights- Only in that Lance was still Lance.

 

   Even that didn’t last long, though.

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so I had this idea while on a 7-hour road trip, and wrote the premise down on a bunch of sticky note like a madwoman, then proceded to actually type it out here like a week later. I'm not sure whether I'll continue it or not, but comments would be appreciated if you've got any ideas!


End file.
